


Billion Day Funeral

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys/Rambling Wrecks AUs [6]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drunk Driving, M/M, Self-Destructive Behavior, Suicidal Ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:14:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where ‘Take Care’ doesn’t happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Billion Day Funeral

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning: This story contains major character death, implied underage alcohol abuse, self-destructive behavior, and suicidal ideation.** Please read the [expanded warnings](http://storyof3boys.livejournal.com/125422.html) for Horrible Things Week.
> 
> Not a new work. We're migrating the AUs away from the SOTB series and into their own, so we can get the odd tags and pairings off the SOTB series tags!

When Puck gets back with the doughnuts, he slides them into the oven to hide them, then realizes he hears Kurt talking to Burt in the living room. By the time they head upstairs, the light in Finn’s room is out and the door is closed. Kurt knocks softly, calling Finn’s name, but there’s no answer, and they continue into Kurt’s room. 

“There’s nothing else we can do,” Kurt says softly. “I know what we talked about, but well. Look, he’s already asleep, or ignoring us, and he’s… he’s straight.”

Puck sighs. “Yeah. He is. I just wish we _could_ do something.”

Finn spends the rest of the weekend in his room, as far as Puck can tell. He doesn’t come out of the room before they leave for the Center on Saturday, and when they get back that evening, he’s still in his room, though the doughnuts they’d left outside his door are gone. On Sunday, he comes out of his room long enough for them to go to rehearsal. 

It’s one of the worst rehearsals they’ve ever had, partially because Finn barely speaks, and Puck exchanges a worried look with Kurt as they leave. 

“I know,” Kurt says quietly, then falls silent when Finn climbs into the back of the Nav. 

It doesn’t seem like Finn particularly cares about having broken up with Rachel. If someone mentions her name, he doesn’t flinch; he interacts with her at school the same way that he interacts with everyone at school. 

By the time Kurt and Puck get back from New York, twelve hours or so later than planned, Finn seems almost back to normal. If Puck weren’t at the Hudmel house so often, if he hadn’t known Finn since first grade, he might not even know that anything is wrong, that anything is different. 

But it is different. Finn’s door is closed more; he smiles less; there seems to be something he’s hiding, almost. It continues through Regionals, Casey’s birthday party, and spring break, with nothing quite getting Finn’s full enthusiasm. It’s after spring break, when an entire conversation about Nationals doesn’t even get a smile, that Kurt decides they’re going to talk to Carole. 

“We’re worried about Finn,” Kurt says plainly. 

“What do you mean?” Carole gives them a strange look. It’s a Saturday afternoon, and Finn’s at the shop with Burt, so it’s just the two of them with Carole. “Worried about him? Why?”

“Something’s not right,” Kurt starts to explain. 

“Ever since Casey.” Puck stops and waits for Carole to nod her understanding. “He broke up with Rachel right after that, and I fully understand why. The way she was acting, well.” Puck shakes his head. “But it’s like he’s never recovered from that week. The combination of the flu, his complications from the flu, Casey, seeing Karofsky like that, the breakup with Rachel… I think it was just too much at once. It’s like he’s depressed.”

“Or actually, clinically depressed.” Kurt looks at Carole. “We just think he ought to see someone. Noah checked with Dr. V, and we could take him with us when we go to Toledo, if he doesn’t want to see someone locally.”

“Finn’s not depressed,” Carole says quickly. “Why would you say that, Kurt? He’s about to graduate, you are all about to go to Nationals, and he’s got his football scholarship to Wisconsin! Why would he be depressed?”

Puck and Kurt exchange a glance, and Puck responds, speaking slowly. “Depression isn’t necessarily situational. It’s just how his brain is responding right now. We just think it couldn’t hurt.”

“No, Finn’s fine,” Carole insists. “Of course he’s been upset after breaking up with Rachel, but it’s probably best he goes to Wisconsin without a fresh break-up. He’ll be ready to meet someone new.”

It almost sounds like Carole thinks the answer to Finn’s problems is just to find a new girlfriend, which doesn’t actually seem that helpful at all in Puck’s mind. 

“Would you at least consider it?” Kurt asks one last time, but Carole just shakes her head. 

“No, I think you’re seeing something that isn’t there, Kurt. I appreciate the two of you being concerned, but there’s just not an actual problem.” 

Kurt sighs and stands up, and Puck follows him out of the kitchen. They’re at the foot of the stairs when Carole calls after them, “And don’t mention this to your father or Finn himself, Kurt. There isn’t a problem, and you don’t need to worry anyone with the idea.”

Puck sighs with Kurt this time, and they head upstairs, closing Kurt’s door before sitting on the bed. “She’s not listening, and she’s not really looking.”

“No.” Kurt frowns. “And now she’s made us unwitting accomplices. If we go against her and tell my dad, nothing will happen. He’s already shown in the past that he believes Carole’s view of Finn over anyone else’s view. He’ll just take it to her and then we’ll be further away from being able to help.”

“And if we tell Finn, he’s going to get mad and argue he doesn’t have a problem.” Puck nods. “Yeah, our hands are tied.”

“We could try Schue?” Kurt says after a moment of silence. “Or Ms. P. I don’t know that they could convince him to see anyone, but at least with Finn being over eighteen, they don’t have to call Carole and inform her.”

“Would he listen to them, though?” Puck winces. “I don’t know, it could work or it could be even worse than if the two of us talk to him.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Kurt concedes. “Shit, baby, how’d this happen? I just want to help him, and we _can’t_. We don’t even know all of what’s going on!”

The trip to Nationals doesn’t perk Finn up noticeably, not even with their win. Artie and Mike both ask Puck and Kurt about it, the week after, but all they can do is shrug. They don’t know what’s going on, they don’t know how to help him, and the only people that are noticing aren’t capable of getting Finn any help. 

The week of graduation is the same as the weeks preceding it. Finn is going through the motions, pasting on the appropriate smiles and other expressions, but his eyes are dead. Puck’s never seen Finn like this; angry, yes; happy, yes; confused or sad, yes. But completely flat? No. Puck spends an afternoon on the phone with Dr. V, Kurt chiming in on occasion, and Dr. V promises that if they can just get Finn to come with them one week, he’ll work him in. 

So they convince Finn that one week in June, he should come to Toledo with them. They make plans and he agrees, even if it’s not enthusiastic agreement. When they graduate, Puck feels a little bit hopeful. They’ll get Finn to see Dr. V, and Dr. V will get through to Finn. 

Except it doesn’t happen that way. 

They leave on Monday morning to go to Columbus, they stay at the hotel outside Columbus on Monday night, and a little before one am, Kurt’s phone starts to ring. He doesn’t manage to answer, but it starts to ring again, and Kurt answers this time. 

“Dad?” he says sleepily. “What’s going on?”

Puck reaches over and turns on the light, which is why he can see the moment that the blood drains from Kurt’s face. “No. _No_. Stop it. NO.”

“Shit,” Puck says softly. “K, what is it?”

“No. No, god, no, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t do that, Dad, no.” Kurt’s almost babbling, and he drops the phone. Puck puts it on speaker, and then he can hear Burt’s voice. 

“—not sure he’s going to make it through the night. I’m sorry, but you two should come on back.”

“Burt?” Puck asks. “What’s going on?”

“Finn— he was out, hit a tree with that old truck of his. There were empty beer bottles all around him. It doesn’t look good.”

"Oh, fuck," is all Puck manages, rolling out of bed and running into the bathroom before he throws up. He empties his stomach and then dry heaves, and by the time that stops, Kurt has everything packed and a set of clothes sitting out for Puck to put on.

Puck isn’t sure how they make it back to Lima safely. He knows they drive too fast, even for how deserted the roads are. Kurt just leaves the Nav in the ‘no parking’ zone directly in front of the main doors, and they run inside, punching the buttons on the elevator. They either start crying again or they never stopped; Puck isn’t really sure. 

When they step off the elevator, Carole and Burt are standing nearby. Puck expects Kurt to crumple into his dad’s outstretched arms, but he steps around him, pointing at Carole. “We _told_ you!” he yells. “We told you something was wrong! And you did _nothing_!”

“Kurt, hey, kiddo, c’mere,” Burt says, trying to put his arms around Kurt. “Try and calm down a little.”

Kurt struggles, still glaring at Carole. “No, we _told_ her, Dad! She thought he just needed to get a new girlfriend!”

“Nobody knew what was going on,” Burt insists. “Yelling at Carole isn’t going to fix anything. I know you’re upset, we’re all upset, but we need to focus here for a minute, okay? We need to start preparing for—” He chokes on the words, cutting himself short, and his eyes tear up. “I don’t think we’ve got a lot of time left.”

“Can we see him?” Puck interjects. 

Burt and Carole exchange a look, and Carole starts to cry. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Burt says gently. “He’s on the ventilator, and he looks… well, he looks really rough.”

“Please, Dad,” Kurt says, all the fight out of his voice. “Please. We need— we need to say—” Kurt cuts himself off and reaches for Puck’s hand, squeezing it hard. 

“Okay. If that’s what you want, I’ll walk you up,” Burt says. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“Thanks,” Kurt whispers, and they follow Burt until he stops in front of a door.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” Burt asks.

“No, we’ll be fine,” Kurt says, and he looks at Puck for a long moment, until Puck nods and Kurt opens the door. Burt wasn’t wrong, Puck can tell immediately. There are a ton of machines whirring, breathing for Finn and monitoring more things than Puck wants to guess. His face is bruised, and the only other sound in the room, apart from the medical equipment, is the sound of Kurt and Puck crying. 

They each go to one side of Finn, and Puck grabs Finn’s hand in both of his. Kurt’s fingers lace with the fingers on Finn’s other hand, and after a few minutes, Kurt starts to talk. 

“How am I going to be part of the Munsters without you, Finn? No one talks about just one Munster.” Kurt stops to wipe at his eyes with his shirt. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s not— if you’re still in there, fight, please? Whatever you need. We’ll be here every day if that’s—” Kurt breaks off in a sob, and he sinks into the chair on his side of the bed, his head resting on Finn’s forearm. 

Puck reaches across Finn and brushes Kurt’s hair back from his eyes, wiping away one of his tears, then puts his hand back on Finn’s. “I don’t think I really remember before I met you,” Puck admits, his voice thick. “I guess I sort of thought there wasn’t anything that could pull us apart, but I guess I was wrong.” He stops and tries to regain control of himself. “You still owe me a dance, you know. Think about that.” Puck closes his eyes, his breathing shaky. “Dammit, Finn, you’re my best friend. And you’re the younger one. This shit—it isn’t right.”

“Please,” Kurt echoes his earlier plea. “Please, Finn. But if— if you can’t. You’re the best little brother I could ever have, okay? I love you.”

There’s some kind of scraping noise outside the door, which is probably a nurse telling them that they need to leave, and Puck sighs. “I mean it. You’re my best friend. Period. That’s not gonna change.” He sets Finn’s hand down and closes his eyes briefly. “Love you, dude.”

The two of them stand and Puck throws an arm around Kurt as Kurt mirrors the action. They walk into the hall and then retrace their steps to where they first found Burt and Carole, walking slowly. 

Carole waits until they’re sitting down before she starts to talk. “I asked them to do another scan, just to be sure,” she says shakily. “But if it comes back like before, that he’s.” She takes a deep breath. “Brain dead. Then we’ll stop life support. Donate his organs. He’d want that.”

Puck feels like the entire night is surreal, but he’s pretty sure that Finn’d rather not be dead, in terms of what he’d _want_. He almost says that, too, until he catches himself, but Kurt must have heard the intake of breath and understood, because he looks at Puck and then squeezes him tightly. 

They sit in the waiting area for what feels like hours; Puck isn’t sure. They don’t look at their phones or pay attention to the television in the corner. It’s starting to be light outside by the time they leave, and Kurt sits in the driver’s seat, staring at his keys in his hand. 

“I don’t know where to go,” he whispers. “I need to not be here.”

“I know.” Puck closes his eyes and tips his head back against the headrest. “How soon can we leave, blue eyes?”

Kurt understands what he means, because his response is, “Probably not until the first, but we could try for the fifteenth.”

“I’ll stay at one of those hostel things if we have to.” Puck sighs. “Might as well start now. With Noah, I mean.”

“Okay, baby,” Kurt says quietly. “I guess Dad and Carole are expecting us. We should do that for now.”

Puck loses track of days and hours. He knows when Rachel finds out, because she calls first Kurt’s phone and then Puck’s, when Kurt doesn’t answer. Puck doesn’t answer, either. Karofsky tries to call; Mr. Schuester tries to call. They don’t answer those calls, nor any of the calls from the rest of the glee club. They put on black suits and go to the funeral home when Burt and Carole tell them it’s time to go, and they stand with the rest of the pallbearers and do what they’re directed to do. 

When Carole goes into Finn’s room, Kurt takes all of Finn’s clothes, his iPad, and his laptop, and tells her he’s keeping them, and no, she can’t give any of it away. Carole tries to change his mind, but gives up eventually, and Kurt and Puck put all of it in boxes. 

Somehow, they manage to make the calls they have to make. Somehow, they finish up their own packing, and Puck’s still not sure what day it is when they walk downstairs at dinner time and Kurt waits until Burt and Carole are both sitting down and eating before he speaks. 

“We’re leaving on Friday.”

Burt frowns. “Your lease doesn’t start until August first.”

“We changed it. Our jobs, too.”

“Boys,” Burt sighs. “I know all of this is hard. I get it. Running away to New York isn’t gonna change anything, though, and don’t you think it would do you both some good to spend time with the family before you leave?”

“Staying here isn’t going to change anything, either,” Kurt says sharply. “At least in New York I won’t get angry every day.”

“I’m just worried about you, kid,” Burt says. “Stay a little longer. Maybe you could make an appointment to talk to Dr. V, talk through some of this stuff before you go.”

Kurt laughs humorlessly and turns to Carole. “Well, Carole? What do you think of that suggestion? Is it okay for _me_ to talk to Dr. V?”

“Kurt, it’s not the same—” Carole begins, then stops as Kurt glares at her. 

“Kurt, I know you’re upset. We’re all upset, but that’s not reason to talk to—” 

“We told her something was wrong, Dad. We thought that if his mother talked to him, he’d be more likely to talk to Dr. V. She told us he was absolutely fine and nothing at all was wrong. Then forbid me to mention the conversation to you.” Kurt puts down his fork, clearly seething. “So please explain to me why I shouldn’t be livid? We could have gotten him up there sooner. We’d finally figured out a way to do it anyway, but.” He exhales loudly. “It was too late by then.”

Carole starts crying, looking down at her plate and not at the three of them.

“Assigning blame won’t fix anything. It won’t bring him back,” Burt says dully. 

“Maybe you can make sure she doesn’t fuck up my sister, at least!” Kurt yells.

“Kurt! That’s enough,” Burt barks at him. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll be gone at the end of the week,” Kurt retorts. “It’ll be like none of us were ever here. Which is fine with me.”

Carole gets up, sobbing loudly, and leaves the room, heading up the stairs, and Puck stands up, getting behind Kurt and holding him against his chest. Burts stands, too, looking up the stairs.

“I’m sorry, son,” is all he says before he follows Carole upstairs. 

“Hey, blue eyes,” Puck says softly. “Why don’t we take Mom up on her offer? Okay?”

Kurt nods, his breathing uneven. “Okay,” he says softly after a minute. “Yeah. We’ll come back for the couple of nights before we leave.” Rina had offered at some point the week before that, if they needed to not be in the house, she’d pay for them to spend a night or two at a motel, not really having any room at the apartment. Puck thinks it’s probably time to spend time away from the house, away from anywhere they once could have seen Finn. 

They’ll still jump every time the phone rings, half-expecting it to be him calling, but Puck’s not sure there’s any cure for that. 

 

On the first day of orientation at Mannes, someone asks Noah where he’s from, and his reply is quick. He doesn’t even consider it, he just says “around here,” and leaves it at that. Someone else comments that he doesn’t have a New York accent, and Noah waves it off with the excuse that he “grew up in the Midwest.” 

It’s easier not to think about anything before New York. Burt calls when Carole has the baby; they look at the pictures and don’t talk about how much she looks like Finn. They also don’t talk about the fact that Carole didn’t name her Audrey, like Kurt and Finn had picked out. Hope. Noah snorts derisively. Why not just call her ‘Second Chance’ like a Thoroughbred or a show dog? That’s what Carole really means, anyway. 

It’s October before it happens. They’re getting pizza with Allison, Ben, Zachary, and V2, and during a lull in conversation, the mood seems to shift. 

“I was really sorry to hear about your brother,” Zachary says. “He seemed like a great guy.”

Noah can almost hear Kurt stiffen at Zachary’s words. “We’re not talking about that,” Kurt says steadily. “We don’t talk about that, we’re not going to talk about that, and _no one_ gets to talk about Fi— him. Do you understand?”

Zachary nods his head rapidly. “Understood, sir. Sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Did you see that ridiculous story yesterday online?” Kurt says, his tone and demeanor flipping back again, but his hand finds Noah’s under the table, and they sit that way, fingers laced together, until the others have all left. 

 

New York is easier than Lima, but it's still not easy. There are still days where it feels like they're being punched, over and over, and there are still days where the most they accomplish is ordering some food, putting off school and even work in favor of sitting together on the futon, quietly crying and talking. 

They don't talk to anyone else about Finn. Not Burt and Carole, not Hannah or Rina, not anyone from Lima. By New Year's, when they haven't contacted anyone from McKinley in months, and when they didn't go back over the holiday break, some of them—though not their families—seem to start giving up at last. 

The clubs start as a way to escape. Friday nights, when they don't have to work the next day, staying out until two or three am and losing themselves in the loud music is a welcome way to dull most of their senses. Kurt likes to show off, drawing as many stares as he can, and if they cross a few lines sometimes, no one's thrown them out of a club, yet. 

It's the same feeling of trying to escape that makes it easy when the first guy offers. He flirts with them, both of them, and Noah and Kurt look at each other for a long moment before agreeing. They'd spent the Tuesday before, just three days earlier, crying on the futon again, and the guy in front of them—dark hair, an inch or two taller than Noah, and a friendly enough smile—feels like a distraction. The rush of it, the immediate aftermath, feels like getting high. 

Noah is pretty sure they're engaging in what a better psychiatrist would label 'self-destructive behavior', but the guy he found in New York pretty much just signs Noah's prescription and doesn't ask questions. Part of Noah feels like 'so what?' anyway. So what if they decide to pick up a guy every month or two and take him back to the apartment? So what if they don't use condoms unless the guy insists? So fucking what, is what Noah wants to say, because things are already far from what they thought they would be. 

The one time the psychiatrist does bring it up, he asks Noah how, exactly, their day to day life is different than what they had imagined. Noah stares at him for a full minute before he points out that it was a shitty question, for starters, and secondly, they still wake up every fucking day knowing Finn's dead, so how is that _not_ completely different than what they had imagined? 

Noah knows about the stages of grief or whatever. He knows they’re stuck with anger and depression both, and part of him acknowledges that they’re not moving out of those. They’re not making an effort to move out of them, and it’s quite likely they never really will. 

But they’re so angry and depressed that neither of them actually cares.

Midway through their junior years, they go get a marriage license and then have a judge marry them. Neither of them wanted anything approaching a celebration, because there would have been a glaring hole in the proceedings. Rina doesn’t really comment on their decision; Hannah says that the least they could have done was let her be the required witness, despite her age. Noah’s not entirely sure what Burt and Carole say to Kurt, but he suspects they would have preferred to have been present. 

At the beginning of November during their senior years, Kurt’s phone rings with Burt’s ringtone. Kurt sighs, answers it, and puts it on speaker before responding. 

“Hi, Dad.”

“It’s that time of year again,” Burt says, his tone falsely bright, though Noah can already hear the hint of resignation underneath. Every year, they’ve had the same conversation. 

“I know,” Kurt says with a sigh. 

“You boys going to let me buy you a plane ticket home for Thanksgiving or Christmas this year?” Burt asks.

“No, Dad,” Kurt says. “We all know it’s not home for us anymore, anyway.”

“Hope’s getting old enough to ask about you,” Burt explains. “She’ll wonder where you are. She notices that you’re not there, you know.”

“Mmm. Then tell her the truth?” Kurt suggests. “Are you ever going to tell her what her name was supposed to be?” he adds, voice quieter.

“Kurt,” Burt sighs. “Does the name matter that much? You’ve got a little sister out here who barely knows you.”

“Yes.” Kurt sighs and looks at Noah, who wraps his arm around Kurt’s shoulder. “It does. And I’ve told you repeatedly that you’re welcome to visit us.”

“It’s just so much more expensive to fly the three of us out there and pay for a hotel,” Burt says. “We’ve got the guest room. Just this one Christmas?”

Kurt draws his breath in sharply, his hand finding Noah’s and squeezing, and Noah knows what Kurt’s thinking. The guest room, which isn’t Kurt’s room, like they’d once planned. No, Hope is in Kurt’s room, and the guest room is Finn’s room. Kurt looks over at Noah, pressing his lips together, and Noah nods once. 

“No, Burt,” Noah says. “We can’t.” It’s not a lie. Noah’s pretty sure that they mentally can’t handle it. 

After a long pause, Burt sighs and says, “Alright. Maybe next year.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Noah echoes, even though he knows it’s a lie. Ohio isn’t a place they go for holidays or celebrations; the only thing left for them in Ohio is funerals.


End file.
